Sharing is Much Better than Being Alone
by Evangeline Henri
Summary: Those seconds after a first kiss. Harry/Ron SLASH.


Sharing is Much Better than Being Alone  
By: Evangeline Henri  
  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Those seconds after a first kiss. Harry/Ron SLASH.  
Spoilers: None.  
Archives: FF.net. All others are welcome; just ask. I   
like to know where my stuff is going so I can   
visit it, send it flowers, little presents.   
The usual.  
Dedication: To Atalanta, who read this instead of paying   
attention to one of the most boring Eighth Amendment   
cases ever tried in the City of New York. God bless   
America, dear. And to Kitten, my sickly BETA who read   
this and returned it in record time. And to Yumie, who   
I still love.  
Disclaimer: I own neither Harry nor Ron; JK Rowling and   
WB do. I merely borrow, play with, and return.  
*****  
  
  
"I shouldn't have done that." Ron was the first to speak.   
While their lips had been pressed together, youthfully, reverently,   
the silence hadn't been quite so ominous. It had been tempered by   
the little things- their hearts beating, the rustle of the curtains   
in the nighttime breeze. When they had parted, though, the silence   
had roared up in front of them. It loomed up, threatening to   
overwhelm the two boys.  
  
"No, it's-" The green in Harry's eyes was especially bright   
tonight, Ron noticed. They were positively glowing, his head resting   
against the headboard. Harry's hair was tousled, locks of it sticking   
out at the oddest angles. Here, in the dark, he was as beautiful as   
ever, maybe even more.  
  
"No, Harry." Ron held up a hand. "You don't have to say   
anything." He took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm.   
It wouldn't do to go to pieces now; he had to stay in control. If   
he slipped up for just a moment, he felt that his eyes would stop   
obeying his brain, and the tears that were waiting in the wings   
would fall. And Ron refused to let himself cry.  
  
"Look, I'm really sorry about that. I don't know what I   
was thinking." In all truthfulness, though, Ron knew exactly what   
he had been thinking in those few seconds. He wasn't sorry, either.   
But never mind about that... best just to pretend it had been   
spontaneous. "It's just, well, I was listening to you talk about   
never having kissed anyone. And I thought to myself, well, why   
shouldn't your first kiss come from me?" He stopped for a moment,   
but Harry merely waited for him to proceed.   
  
"I mean, if you're going to be kissing people, your first   
one has to be special. It should come from someone you know, someone   
you trust. That first person has to be close to you, because if it   
all goes terribly, and you freeze up and you have your tongues in   
each other's mouths and you think that you're going to choke- Well,   
at least it'd be someone you could laugh about it with later. I'm   
not saying you were a bad kisser or anything," he added hastily,   
not exactly sure what words were falling out of his mouth,   
"not at all. It was an amazing kiss. But if it hadn't been,   
you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you   
barely know, right?"  
  
A cloud passed over the moon for a moment, making it   
hard to see anything. Ron thought he saw Harry nod, though. He   
decided that it would have to do, and plunged ahead. "And I just   
kept thinking about who it should be, right? I mean, when Harry   
Potter decides to kiss someone, especially when it's his first   
kiss, that's got to be important. Not that I kissed you just   
because you're famous, and all. But I was trying to figure out   
whom a good person would be for you to kiss. To get you started   
out and all that."  
  
Now he couldn't stop talking, although he had the sinking   
sensation he was prattling on about nonsense. "And I remembered   
at the Yule Ball, when we went for a walk, and everyone was being   
kicked out of the bushes by Snape. This would definitely be a   
better place to have a first kiss than there. Out in the cold,   
with all those prickly leaves and twigs, and Snape. Whose about   
as prickly and cold and horribly icky as you can get, but that's   
besides the point." He wrinkled his nose for a moment.  
  
"Besides, if there's anyone you've embarrassed yourself in   
front of, that's me, so you wouldn't have to be worried about   
doing something wrong. And we've been friends forever, so you   
know that I'm not going to kiss you just because you're... well,   
you. I once kissed Hermione, too, so I've had some experience.   
Although she did smack me and then proceed to put me into a Body   
Bind, so I guess that's not the best of my qualifications. But   
I thought that, all in all, I was a pretty good choice. Except   
for that whole, not being a girl thing. Which I couldn't really   
do anything about in the first place, so I kind of put that aside.  
  
"So I'm really sorry if you're disgusted because I kissed you   
or because you think I've wanted to get in your pants all this time-   
which, I haven't, by the way. But I just kept thinking and thinking,   
and all I could come up with was, 'Why not me?'"  
  
Ron stopped himself, cutting off the torrent of words that   
had been rushing from his mouth, a raging river of excuses. He took   
a deep breath, willing everything that had remained unsaid to settle   
back down. "I've been babbling, haven't I?" He tried to smile   
self-deprecatingly, but felt that he was just baring his teeth at   
Harry.   
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Sorry about that." Ron stood, feeling evermore foolish.   
"Well, since I've managed to ruin the best thing I had going for me   
with one ill-placed kiss, I think it'd be best if I retreat back to   
my own bed to lick my wounds." He held up a hand. "I'm not bitter,   
really. But if you could just see yourself, Harry- well, you'd be   
as shocked as the rest of us are that you've never been kissed   
until now."  
  
Ron turned to go, keeping his eyes anywhere but on Harry,   
who was still watching him. Soon, he'd be safe in his own bed, and   
he could pile comforter upon comforter over his body and try to warm   
himself. He could cry there, too, and no one would ever know.   
And when he finally exhausted himself and sleep blissfully came,   
maybe there'd be some answer to the horrible mess into which one   
kiss had gotten him.  
  
"Ron."  
  
Ron turned, half-hoping he had imagined that reedy, but   
determined, voice. But there was no doubt in Harry's features that   
he had called Ron's name. He ran a hand through his hair, and said,   
"Yeah, Har'?"  
  
Harry's mouth curved into a smile. "What, you're just   
going to kiss me and run? That was how you thought my love life   
should officially begin, Weasley?"  
  
Ron, so loquacious only a minute ago, could not find any   
words whatsoever. Instead, he let his legs answer by bringing him   
back to the bedside, and let his eyes answer by never once leaving   
Harry's face. They were the only parts of him that were able to   
overcome the shock; the rest had stopped functioning altogether.   
He wondered if this was what it was like to faint, wondered if the   
next moment would find him unconscious, his torso on Harry's bed   
and the rest of him slumped on the floor.  
  
"Because that's not fair." Harry grabbed his hand, and   
pulled down. Ron toppled onto Harry's bed in a rather unbecoming   
fashion, his head landing mere inches from Harry's.   
  
"If you're going to run, I've got to have a chain so that   
I can pull you back to me," he whispered, as an arm snaked around   
Ron's waist. "And I intend to start forging one right now."  
  
And Ron, though he had been anxious to escape to his own bed,   
found that sharing was much nicer than being alone.  
  
-The End- 


End file.
